Glynna Kaye - Pine Country Cowboy

“Brett?”

He recognized the voice of his sister Geri, one of the twins. Two years older than him, both sisters sported red hair, a sprinkling of freckles and energy that wouldn’t quit. He collapsed back on his pillow. “What’s up?”

“It sure doesn’t sound like you are yet. Oversleep?”

“I forgot to set the alarm.” A Singing Rock emergency had ensured he’d gotten to bed late, then he’d lain awake too long kicking himself for not taking Bill Diaz up on his lunch invitation yesterday. Abby had clearly wanted him to come with them, as he’d interpreted it anyway, to be a buffer between her and her father. Not a spot he cared to be in. But it had eaten at him the rest of the day, second-guessing his decision not to go along. He’d wondered about Abby’s sadness when he’d first met her and it seemed likely the father-daughter relationship played a role in it. There had been an evident tension between the two of them in the brief interchange he’d witnessed.

“You have to plan a weekend at Mom and Dad’s sometime soon,” Geri insisted. Despite being the bossier of the twins who often acted like a second mom to him, she was the sibling he felt closest to. Even though she had a look-alike playmate, she’d nevertheless loved joining him in his childhood adventures and they developed a special bond. Through the years Geri had become—and remained—his confidante.

“That’s not on my agenda. Why?”

“Amber, Erin and I were thinking about getting everybody together. We haven’t all been in one place since Thanksgiving. Maybe you could stop in Ashfork and pick up Grandma and Grandpa on your way.”

He scrubbed his free hand over his face, cognizant of the morning stubble along his jaw. A Marden family get-together at the ranch his folks managed was always an event to look forward to. He hated to miss out.

“You know summers are the busiest time of the year for me. That popular blog that’s been featuring our town jump-started the tourist season early, too. We have a lot of events scheduled at the equine center, and here at Singing Rock we’re already filling up.” He worked part-time at both locations, having been fortunate enough to snag accommodations as a part of the deal at the cabin resort, where he was usually on call evenings. “I’m still picking up work on the side and the kids’ camp is coming along, too.”

For a long moment his sister remained silent.

“What?” he prompted. But he could guess what she was thinking. He’d heard it enough times from all three sisters. And Mom. His three older brothers and Dad weren’t so disapproving of his choices.

“You’re still burying yourself in your work, Brett.”

Readying for a lecture, he reluctantly pulled himself up and propped the pillow against the headboard, behind his back. “It’s called being fond of eating and having a roof over my head. Oh, and providing the same for that spoiled horse of mine.”

After a too-long time in the city, it had been a joy to have a horse of his own again and to hit the forested trails surrounding Canyon Springs. Just him, Cinnabar, Elmo and God.

“I’m not making light of your situation, but it’s been seven years since you lost Jeremy and Melynda left you. Care to share when you’re going to let yourself have a life again?”

He had a life. Maybe it wasn’t how the happily married Geri with her two rambunctious kids thought it should be. But he had a good life. Interesting work and a kid-oriented project occupied his time, involvement with children being a step he’d once thought he’d never again choose to take.

“Does anyone there even know what you’ve been through? Offer support?”

He’d shared bits and pieces of his past with Janet Logan, who’d skillfully and compassionately pried them out of him. A no-nonsense, practical type, she hadn’t fawned over him and his losses. No stranger to heartache herself, she could be counted on to keep private what he’d confided to her.

“I’ve mentioned it to a discreet, older lady from church. But you know I don’t like people knowing my business.”

Geri made a scoffing sound. “Doesn’t that strike you as odd? I mean, you are one of the most open, gregarious men I know. Yet you’re still keeping all of this to yourself.”

“I don’t imagine hearing about it would brighten anyone’s day.” It hadn’t brightened Janet’s by any means, but her grandson’s challenges with cystic fibrosis had built a strong bond between them.

“Maybe not, but you’re not allowing anyone outside the family to serve as a support system. Don’t you dare tell me doing that is ‘a guy thing.’”

Why couldn’t the females in his family leave him in peace? He shook his head and leaned over to turn on the nightstand lamp even though sufficient sunlight peeped in around the edge of the curtains to make it an unnecessary effort. “I don’t need a support system. I’m doing fine. God is good. Life is good. And I’m better than good.”

Considering what he’d been through, that was the truth. He was happy...for the most part. Enjoying life. No, maybe it wasn’t all he’d once dreamed of, but did anyone ever have it all? Doubtful.

“You still aren’t seeing anyone, are you?” Not surprisingly, her tone rang with accusation. “No one special, I mean.”

Special. That meant letting a woman get close enough that you cared when she walked out. “In God’s time, Geri. I’m in no hurry to run ahead of Him.”

He hadn’t even been much tempted to. No woman had caught more than his slightest interest in a long time. Unbidden, the image of Abby Diaz reading the Sunday school lesson to the kindergarteners slid into his sleep-fogged mind. He could picture how the kids sat rapt, listening to the animation in her somewhat husky voice—a voice that could get under a man’s skin real quick if he let it.

He ran a hand through his hair, dismissing the memory.

“Maybe you’ve barred the door to God’s plan,” his sister persisted. “Have you ever considered that?”

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, the hardwood floor cool under his bare feet. He needed to replace the rug his overgrown pup, Elmo, had chewed up last week. “So now you’re evaluating my spiritual life?”

“Of course not. But a man who is looking for a wife—”

Where’d she get that idea?

“—doesn’t move to a town with a population of less than three thousand souls and hide out with his horse.”

He cracked a smile. “I lived in Phoenix for five years before coming here. Fifth largest city in the country, with probably half the population female.”

“And the whole time you were there you were hanging on to the hope Melynda would come back, so you didn’t date even then.”

“I was doing what I believed God wanted me to do.” Working full-time to pay off the medical bills and taking classes on the side didn’t cater to an active love life.

“If you hadn’t been funneling money to Melynda through her folks,” she chided, “maybe you could have paid the bills off sooner. Her folks blindsiding you with the news that she’d gotten pregnant and remarried proves she didn’t deserve your help.”

Brett held back the growl forming in his throat. Geri would have to remind him of Melynda carrying another man’s child. But helping his ex-wife financially was something else he’d felt led to do even though it hadn’t been a requirement of the divorce settlement. Up until two years ago when she’d remarried, he’d never thought of her as an ex. After all, he’d signed on for the long haul even if she hadn’t. He’d hung on to the belief that if she saw him living a convincing life of faith, walking in Jesus’s footsteps, she’d eventually give her life to God, too, and find her way back to her husband.